


Bitter Cold

by Electra_Heart



Category: South Park
Genre: Kisses, M/M, and cuddles, because bunny is adorable, mentions of sex but no smut dont worry, totally plotless fluffy oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:45:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electra_Heart/pseuds/Electra_Heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had been breaking into the Stotch's house since he was 14. Back then, Butters would let him in through his window. The climb to the second story of the house was shitty, but he managed. It was worth it, because Butters would beam at him like he was the fucking sun, moon and stars. Back then, Butters was constantly paranoid. Paranoid that he would inevitably get himself grounded by sneaking Kenny in. Kenny knew he should've felt bad about it, but their mutual feelings for each other clouded basic judgement. </p><p>Two years later, unbeknownst to Mr and Mrs.Stotch, Kenny was the proud owner of a house key, gifted to him by Butters himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter Cold

**Author's Note:**

> hey so i wrote this at 1 am i hope u enjoy this pointlessly self indulgent one-shot. Bunny is really cute so you probably will.
> 
>  
> 
> [My tumblr](http://melting-kingdoms.tumblr.com/)

Nights were always bitter cold in South Park, which was why Kenny loved the Stotch household so much. Not because of Butter's asshole parents—definitely not—but because they always had the heat cranked all the way on high. They were never out of tea and coffee and hot chocolate mix, all stocked up in the kitchen. The hot chocolate was his favorite, those wonderful little packets that you could stir into frothy, warm milk. They could almost taste genuine if you convinced yourself hard enough that the chocolate was real, and not just processed crap.

 

Kenny sat on the granite countertop, in the dark, sipping on some hot chocolate that he had fixed for himself. The cold stone bit pleasantly into his thighs, through a layer of thin old sweatpants. The house was quiet. It was nice. Downing the last of his drink, Kenny licked his lips, satisfied. 

 

He had been breaking into the Stotch's house since he was 14. Back then, Butters would let him in through his window. The climb to the second story of the house was shitty, but he managed. It was worth it, because Butters would beam at him like he was the fucking sun, moon and stars. Back then, Butters was constantly paranoid. Paranoid that he would inevitably get himself grounded by sneaking Kenny in. Kenny knew he should've felt bad about it, but their mutual feelings for each other clouded basic judgement. 

 

Two years later, unbeknownst to Mr and Mrs.Stotch, Kenny was the proud owner of a house key, gifted to him by Butters himself. 

 

Kenny hopped down from his perch on the counter. He left his mug in the sink and padded upstairs on silent feet. His shadow stretched across the hallway as he made his way into Butters' bedroom, quiet and careful as a mouse. 

 

Butters had a queen sized bed that Kenny constantly envied, but was also grateful for. It meant that there was enough room for both of them. A small form could be seen beneath a pile of blankets, rising and falling softly. 

 

Kenny climbed into the bed, his long, thin frame looming above the sleeping other. A sweet ache pooled in the bottom of his stomach at the sight of a sleeping Butters. The boy looked so peaceful, his pale skin looking all glowy and girly in the moonlight coming through the window, white-blond hair sticking up in sleep-mused tufts. His mouth was perfectly pink, lips parted and inviting. Kenny was seized with the urge to kiss him to death.

_ God damn. _

 

With his hands framing Butters on both sides, Kenny dipped down, placing chaste, small kisses all over Butters' cheeks and nose. The smaller boy let out a soft mumble of a sound in his sleep, and Kenny swallowed thickly.  _ Control yourself,  _ he idly thought, nuzzling into the warmth at the base of Butters' neck. Kenny kissed at the soft skin of his collar bone, the edge of his jaw, across his nose and eyelids, and Butters began to stir beneath him, letting out a whimper. 

 

_ So fucking cute.  _

 

It was then that Kenny knew he couldn't help himself, self control be damned. He kissed that enticing mouth with a gentle fervor, soft little kisses over and over, his hands drifting to the warmth of Butter's waist as he felt the boy wake up beneath him.

 

Brilliant aquamarine blinked lazily up at him.  _ Fucking beautiful.  _ You could name every cliche ever written about blue eyes, every stupid, cheesy comparison to the ocean and the sky, and that right there, would be Butters’ eyes. 

 

"J-Jeez, Kenny... Y'taste like chocolate," Butters mumbled, his speech slurring tiredly. Kenny’s mouth quirked up wryly at the corners, because Butters’ accent got really thick when he was tired. Kenny hummed in agreement to this statement, and wrapped Butters up languidly in his arms. 

 

He closed his eyes, and remembered how foreign holding a boy had felt (as opposed to a girl), back when they were 14. First off, boys, he discovered, were all edges. There was no softness, or curves, which were the best parts of girls if he was being honest. No breasts pressed warmly into his chest whenever he hugged Butters. Obviously not. God, that would be so fucking weird. Yeah, he missed boobs. That was maybe the  _ only  _ con of dating Butters Stotch. Fortunately, there were plenty of pros.

 

For example, Butters had always been very small and very innocent. That was something you knew just by looking at him (which Kenny did a lot of). But it was damn cute, the way Butters would cling to him in a scary situation, or run to him with billions of questions on how everything and anything worked. Because his shit parents never bothered to explain anything to him. So Kenny answered everything, and he answered it patiently. Butters never got patience from anyone at all, and someone had to give it to him. So Kenny did. He never lost his temper with Butters. 

 

And the boy blossomed. Kenny saw it with his own very own eyes, and it made his heart do these huge, idiotic smiles every time he saw Butters act confident, every time he saw strength flicker in those eyes. Kenny was hungry for it, and so he always praised Butters, both constantly and incessantly. 

 

There was this one time, at lunch, when Kenny had felt especially proud, the kind of that’s-my-boyfriend proud. See, every day at lunch, without fail, Cartman used to take Butters’ snack pack. It was just an unspoken thing that no one had ever really thought about defending Butters over. Kenny certainly defended him over the really  _ big  _ stuff, the stuff he couldn’t work himself out of, but the little things generally flew over everyone’s heads without a second thought. So when Butters kept his fingers locked around the little pudding cup as Eric Cartman tried to pry it from his hands, everyone was, of course, colored shocked. The entire thing was so fucking stupid anyways, sixteen year olds fighting over chocolate pudding, but nothing was trivial to Cartman. Every fight picked with him was a  _ fight.  _ He grunted and tried to use the table as leverage, trying to gain some sort of an advantage over Butters, who was holding fast.

 

“God damnit, Butters give me the snack pack!” 

 

“N-no, Eric!” Butters had huffed back, which had surprised us all. By now, the entire lunchroom had gone silent. “I  _ want _ my pudding!”

 

Glaring, Cartman had simply handed back the snack pack. 

 

“Jesus, Butters you don’t have be so psycho about it.” He had grumbled.

 

And Butters had eaten the entire thing with a grin the size of Colorado on his face. Everyone watched him, stunned. 

 

After school that day, Kenny had pulled Butters aside , beaming with pride. Before Butters could question anything, Kenny had wrapped his arms around him tightly.

 

“That was amazing, Butters, what you did at lunch,” he had praised happily, and when he pulled back, Butters cheeks were pink, and he was smiling something genuine, sweeter than sugar. He stood up a little bit straighter, after that. 

 

Kenny petted Butter’s hair softly now, in the dark, trying to remember a time when Butters’ smile had ever been incapable of bringing him out of his worst days, days where he would wake up from the dead, both literally and figuratively, feeling shaken, empty, with the aftertaste of trauma in his mouth. He recalled how Butters had been wary to believe him, at first, about the dying thing. 

 

“Ken...I just can’t see h-how you can come back to life like that! I mean, once you go to Jesus in heaven, y’aren’t really supposed to come back!” Butters had protested. Kenny had been sick of trying to get his friends to believe him , at that point. His cheeks burned in shame now as he remembered the memory, how his head had hung low, and fat, ugly tears had begun to fall down his cheeks, gathering at his chin. He had never been one to cry, but back then, on Butters’ porch at three in the morning, he had cried. He had cried for all the times he hadn’t ever let himself cry, all the times he had woken up from the dead in random places, his head ringing, his heart beating against his ribs, too hard. He had cried, and continued to cry even though he was on the edge of hysterics, even as Butters wrapped his arms around Kenny’s middle and tried to kiss the tears away. When he had been done, they didn’t talk about it. They never talked about the dying thing, after that, except for one week later, when Butters had shown up at his door just to say, “I-I do believe you, Kenny. About the r-resurrectin’ thing, that is.”

 

It had brought a joy so true and perfect to Kenny, just to hear Butters say that, that he had pulled the other boy inside by a wrist, laid him on the couch, and kissed him deeply, even though Karen was supposed to come home any minute. He kissed Butters until it wasn’t enough, and he had to break away to pull his shirt over his head, see Butters’ face, to take in the sight of his bare chest and torso. Perfect, unscarred pale skin, flushed cheeks, nervous, darting eyes. 

 

“Leopold.” He had breathed, softly, right into Butters’ ear. He could feel Butters shudder under him when he spoke his name like that. 

 

Now, in the dark, his mouth twisted wryly, remembering what that had led to. Some pretty great sex, some of the best sex he had ever had, well at least before Karen had walked in on them.

 

Butters wriggled in Kenny’s arms, and pulled back, staring at him in the dark with such a serious expression that Kenny did a double-take.

 

“What’s up, Buttercup? Something wrong?” He asked gently.

 

“Y-yes, Ken. You need to know something, and I need to tell you. B-but I don’t… um, really know how. But I’m gonna anyways! I looked up how on the internet, so I-I’m prepared!” He exclaimed, determination shining in his eyes.

 

Kenny laughed. “Okay, Butters, what is it?” He asked, smoothing a lock of hair from Butters’ face. 

 

Butters remained silent for a moment, his eyes closed. He caught Kenny’s hand and held it to his cheek. 

 

“I-I think I love you Ken. No, I... I really do! C-cause I think that if I’m willin’ to sneak you p-past my mom and dad and m-maybe get grounded for my entire life, then that means I  _ really  _ gotta love you.” He smiled.

 

Kenny’s heart stuttered, his eyes growing round as frisbees. 

 

He loved Butters with everything he had. He loved Butters like he loved sunsets and video games and mac and cheese, but more. He realized then that loved Butters like nothing else. 

 

Kenny leaned forward, brushing a thumb along Butters’ jawline, tilting until they were only centimeters apart, and they shared the same breath. He could feel Butters’ pulse racing beneath his fingers.

 

“I love you too, Buttercup.  _ Fuck,  _ I love you so much.” He whispered softly, licking his lips. Butter’s closed the gap between them, his fingers sliding through Kenny’s hair, his mouth wet and soft and familiar. 

  
Nights were always bitter cold in South Park, but Butters Stotch was the warmest thing in Kenny’s whole entire world. 


End file.
